


I Get to Have a Cold Pillow

by wheres-mickey (peijou)



Series: Bedtime Stories [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peijou/pseuds/wheres-mickey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian likes the pillow on the warm side; Mickey likes it on the cold side. They only have one.<br/>Drama ensues. (Or fluff, maybe.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get to Have a Cold Pillow

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [La face de l'oreiller](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055701) by [wheres-mickey (peijou)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peijou/pseuds/wheres-mickey)



Ian's hold around Mickey was so tight that he could feel the sigh of his boyfriend's warm breath brushing over the base of his neck, hear the soft beating of his heart against their pressed chests, and if he ducked his head just that little bit, he could even bury his nose into his hair to fill his lungs with his sexy smell. Surrounded by Mickey's reassuring presence, he was happiest human alive and everything was wonderful, he decided, as he lazily accepted the urgent call of his organism for a well-deserved sleep.

Or so he wished.

He knew he wouldn't have such luck, though, when Mickey began to shift against him. Curious to know if simply watching could get him motion sick, Ian silently eyed Mickey from above as the older boy kept fidgeting in the bed without giving it a damn rest. Since getting sick didn't only sound very unappealing but also dangerously likely, Ian hugged him still instead, trying to get him to settle.

But that clearly wasn't happening either.

At some point, Ian gave up, propping himself up on his elbows as he glared down at Mickey. "Jesus Mick, what the fuck."

"You awake?" Mickey replied, his voice husky with sleep. Ian couldn't help but find it cute as hell, and who was he kidding, not just the voice. The _whole package_ was cute as hell. Annoyingly cute. He fell back onto the bed, irritated. "Of fucking course I'm awake. You probably woke Mandy, too. And she's in Indiana."

"Smartass," Mickey mumbled, ignoring the sarcasm. He shifted once again, and flipped the pillow under Ian's head.

That left Ian gaping like an idiot.

"Mickey, you know I hate this shit," he scowled, unable to decide whether to be mad or exasperated. Too tired to shout, he mostly sounded whiny and desperate. He couldn't help it; he _hated_ the cold side. It was waking him up.

Given the fact that 1) they had been running from the Rub N Tug to the house and back and forth all day and whores and Milkoviches were certainly not the easiest material to handle, and 2) they _just_ fucked well and hard enough to knock them both out, Ian was exhausted. Besides, he did most of the job on the latter--not that Mickey would agree. He wasn't asking for much; just a good night's sleep.

Actually, he _was_ comfortable and sleepy, wrapped around his boyfriend like a blanket; until said stupid boyfriend flipped up the stupid pillow for no goddamn reason--except for Ian to lie, pathetic, with his eyes wide open, and for the cold of their pillow to maintain him in this state of sharp awakening. That was unfair. That was _betrayal_.

Unimpressed, Mickey opened one eye, only to close it again. "What?"

"I have to do this with you again?"

"C'mon, don't be a dick, it'll w-" But he was interrupted by Ian, or rather Ian's fingers, as the little shit was on his knees and tickling him like there was no tomorrow. Mickey gaped in turn and burst into laughter.

" _Jesus_ , Ian- Fuck-", he managed to articulate between two irrepressible giggles, ineffectively shaking his legs to destabilize the redhead. When Ian went for his ribs, he couldn't help it and lost it completely, twisting helplessly underneath Ian, throwing his head back and clenching his hands in the sheets.

When he finally managed to regain (at least part of) his composure, he shoved Ian on the shoulder hard enough to roll him so he was on his back and Mickey was panting on top, grabbing both of his wrists. "Fuck, stop it, crazy." He furrowed his eyebrows in an attempt to look pissed, but his shivering lip was giving him away.

While struggling with a partner still gesticulating for dominance, Mickey's expression went within a short amount of time through a good part of The Catalog of Human Expressions. It started with confusion, until his face lit up as if the gears finally clicked together and just as suddenly, his eyebrows shot up in disbelieve--so fast Ian thought they were going to crash against his hairline. "That because of the fucking pillow?"

Ian nodded his head and freed his right hand long enough to poke Mickey in the side once again. "Ian!", he swatted the tentative hand away. "You're already wrapping me like some kinda gay octopus. I'm fucking melting." Ian shrugged but went still nonetheless. No prob as far as he was concerned. "You get to wrap me up; I get to have a cold pillow."

Ian wrinkled his nose, eyes still locked with Mickey's. Cold pillow vs cuddling? (C'mon, it _was_ cuddling. Even though Mickey would never admit it, and Ian himself would never put it that way. At least not out loud.)

"A'ight."

Though the deal was shit, Ian wasn't too keen on giving up the cuddling. He gave Mickey a sheepish look while his boyfriend eyed him warily, releasing him carefully enough so he could bar any further revolutionary attempt. When he was certain Ian was not going to launch a coup, he collapsed to the side.

The pillow was flipped once more, and punched a few more times, for good measure. Then, Mickey turned his back to Ian.

Whatever, Ian thought. The pillow was already warming up anyway. Well, not yet. But it was going to. At some point. He grumbled and snuggled back next to Mickey.

He had no intention of giving up just yet.

Once the silence had settled back in, he looped one arm around Mickey's waist, chest plastered against his back. He buried his nose into his boyfriend's neck, brushing his lips against the skin while his other hand was stroking slowly his side down to his thighs and back up--just to piss him off. The resistance was not as firm as he expected it to be, surprisingly. He barely received a few kicks under the covers, until Mickey settled into a complete stillness that had Ian assume he fell asleep.

They were back to their previous position, really, he noted. Boyfriend spooned even more tightly; pillow getting warmer.

He heaved a sigh and covered Mickey's hand with his own, pressing a kiss on the back of his neck, where his skin was so biteable. The total lack of reaction convinced him that Mickey was indeed asleep, because _fuck_ if he'd let Ian do that awaken. Hell, even _Ian_ wouldn't normally let himself do that. That felt real nice, though. The thought made him grin like a goofball until he was finally taken to his so desired blissful, cuddling-filled, dreamy sleep.

What he could not see was that, on the other side of the bed and even as his eyes were closed, Mickey too was smiling broadly.


End file.
